


china doll

by junji



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Kuroken if you squint, M/M, Overprotective Tsukishima, Sexual Tension, Stalking, a bit of humor, camboy au, kenhina crumbs, love at first stream, no beta we die like men, oihina brazil crumbs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-20 02:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junji/pseuds/junji
Summary: samu.god.jp♥ has gifted 5000 cherries!!Message:“You’re a menace to my soul yet you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.”Hinata flinches visibly at the amount plastered in his screen but seeing the message below, he grins nonetheless. “Big words from a guy behind a screen.”“Likewise,” Atsumu typed almost immediately. “Let’s change that.”
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 65
Kudos: 232





	1. rose garden dreams

**Author's Note:**

> story title is inspired by [without you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcavCo3ZMgM)  
> atsumu narrates the mundane activities of his daily life— it was not daijobu.  
> my hero academia references. from who the hell is chibi-chan to where the hell is chibi-chan.  
> 

Atsumu was bored.

What other layman’s term could possibly describe the apathetic emotional state he’s currently dealing with. No, scrap that. There were no other words to justify the exhaustion he felt at this very moment.. and it was only the beginning of the week. Japan is made up of a hundred million people and not a single person piqued his interest. It was starting to bother him, in fact— how robotic everyone was, like he’s stuck in a loop. The only difference was the lack of Osamu and his former teammates.

Has it always been this… dreary without his annoying brother? Did he really take the years he spent at Inarizaki High for granted? Because right now nothing excites him anymore. Even excitement was probably an exaggeration at this point.

He isn’t depressed, no. Atsumu agrees to the idea that he functions well as a human being. Nothing has really changed with the way he acts, being the people pleaser that he was. His state of mind and how he feels, however, was a can full of worms that he desperately wants to bury. He reckons that this may have been the effect of hanging out with Kiyoomi. Why else is he starting to internalize similarly to his team’s outside hitter?

It surely is taking a toll on him, his mind would say, and yet waking up every single day at ass o’clock in the morning to strut his way to class as the demand of people pushed in his line of direction asks for a photo with him, or just talk to him in general— this all seems bleak from an outside perspective, let alone the fact that this has been a daily occurrence, but if you aren’t a Miya and _the_ Atsumu at that, nobody could fathom the satisfaction he felt with all this attention. Every. Single. Time. He beams at the idea despite his inner monologue not so long ago. Perks of being a star player in their university’s volleyball team.  
  


_How troublesome_. He’d tell himself internally as the shutters of modern phone were heard, finally letting go of the breath he wasn’t aware he’s holding in, plastering a perfectly rehearsed smile that always made people swoon over him. In no time he’ll hear the same old discussion at the hallway, cafeteria, classrooms and locker rooms.

_Atsumu Miya is not like every other star players across the country, he’s perfect.  
_ _Atsumu Miya is as flawless in the sports magazines AND in real life. Jealous.  
_ _Atsumu Miya smiled at me and he was kind enough to take a photo with me._

He wonders if that’s all there is to him. A flavor of the month.

This has always been a routine for the past two years upon entering university. They feature a star player who’s recently graduated in high school, flaunt them in publications and social media, train the poor souls to death and the rest is history. Sugar, spice and all things not nice. One fine result in the form of Atsumu Miya, a product of gung-ho coaches and bitter bench warmers.

Atsumu was humble.

Despite his lack of interest towards people in general, he was quite thankful hearing the crowd roar in favor of their team, most especially when they’re present in every event and games to show their support to _the_ Miya Atsumu explicitly. What are star players without the fans, right?

The girls nod their head politely as he did the same, slightly pushing the door open which lead to his Literature class. Most of the seats were already occupied. He always made it a point to wake up early not because of morning classes but to take his sweet, sweet time fixing his do and freshening up. Atsumu’s hair stood at amazing directions in the morning. Sometimes he opts for morning showers instead of evening, only if it wasn’t winter.

Atsumu takes his usual seat in the middle row where he could pay attention the most. While he preferred his seat far back, the row has been infiltrated by jocks who were only in this class for mandatory minors. Considering how he was a jock himself, maintaining a little above average class marks has always been in his line of concern since high school. Being an athlete should not be a hindrance (or excuse) to anyone’s academic performance.

A yawn escapes from Atsumu as they wait for class to start. To spare him from an utter state of languor, he digs out his phone to check the news, Twitter, mails.. whatever keeps his mind off from shutting down. Deciding that sports news doesn’t have anything to offer, he clicks on his Twitter app, mindlessly scrolling through the trending feed but not before receiving an influx of notification signifying the lack of activity he’s made in this account since his last visit.

He didn’t bother pressing any of his mentions and direct messages. If it was so important then people can reach him via text message or business email. After all, he only created a Twitter account to post about sports and MSBY related news. Over 40,000 followers, 16 retweets and 1 Atsumu-generated post later, the account already graced its way to one of the few verified accounts among men’s volleyball league pro-players in Japan.

Seriously, how does his only post amass a number of activity? It was just a “Hi.” Atsumu remembers skimming through the replies. It was… something, to say the least.

_val(erie)  
@hip_dys19  
_ _omgomgomOMGOM G IS THIS THE ReaL ATSUMU MIYA HI_

 _✧_ _ceo of atsumu miya fc_ _✧  
_ _@atsuwaifu  
_ _welp might fuck around and become an atsumu miya fan account_

 _S.  
_ _@ominomi  
_ _Lol eboy._

Atsumu should know enough not to look for familiar names in the still-growing-up-to-this-day thread even if the last user handle and their way of typing shows signs of similarity to a fuckboy-allergic teammate of his. Kiyoomi can never be impressed no matter how hard anyone tries.

“Looks like someone’s been jacking it all night to milfs. What’s gotten you in the dumps, Kindaichi?” A couple of snickers were heard from behind. First off, what’s wrong with milfs?

“Oh shut up Kawanishi-san,” He hears the sound of a chair scraping the floor. The guy must have woken up from his light nap. “Anyway, what’s wrong with milfs?” Ah, a mind reader, this Kindaichi guy. Also a man of culture.

“Nothing man, nothing at all! We ain’t kink shaming here!”

“You sure you know about that stuff though?” There’s mirth in his tone. “Aren’t you like, gay, Yu-chan?”

Atsumu catches the sound of sparks when an eight year old shoves its fork in a socket thinking that he’d suddenly acquire the power All Might has bestowed Midoriya Izuku. He doesn’t watch anime but a fan compared him to the buff hero. He doesn’t see the resemblance. He doesn’t know if he should take offense knowing All Might had two forms— does this fan indulge in his egocentric front and inner turmoil or did she see him as a fucking sham? He doesn’t understand why he remembers this memory now. He doesn’t know why he’s still listening to the “friendly” banter exchanged behind him.

“Nah man I’m straight.” Kindaichi corrects him. “So yes, I have the slightest idea about.. milfs.”

“Is that so?” Kawanishi chuckles. “Nice.”

“Yeah. Nice.” Who were they trying to fool..?

Everyone in the room knew they were both lying.

And Atsumu wishes it was Friday already.

“Now, now you two! Nothing’s wrong with milfs or being gay.” Oya? A new challenger appears? Atsumu cocks his head to see Sarukui Yamato, a Fukurodani alumni and Bokuto’s former teammate. They never had a conversation but as formalities persist, he nods his head sparingly. Sarukui returns the gesture.

“This is just friendly banter. Don’t worry about it.” As he mentioned earlier, a mind reader.

“He’s right. Sorry if it startled you, Sarukui-san. Sorry you guys!”

“Excuse me, not to burst your nose bubble but why are you doing that?”

Kawanishi tilts sideward. “Huh? Do what?”

“That thing…” Kindaichi imitates him, without his tongue out. “The thing those Youtube vloggers do in the beginning of their video. Oikawa-san does the same in his Snapchats.”

It must be lovely to keep tabs of your former team mates. Now that Atsumu thinks about it, he never really took it upon his time to see what his team mates have been up to recently. Three years were enough time to form solid bonds. Last time he heard from them in Inarizaki’s LINE group was when Akagi roomed with Shirabu Kenjirou of Shiratorizawa in his dorm and had a thing for a few weeks. Started and ended with a bang. There were probably a few more chats afterwards before he muted the group. He should feel guilty.

Somehow, he was okay like this.

“The only thing I see here is your thing for Oikawa-san.” He was not okay with this.

This time the chair was scraped louder, followed by a loud thump. “MY WHAT NOW???“

“We get it, Kindaichi. You got the hots for your former captain. I’d watch him livestream any day.” Hearing the last sentence, Atsumu sits up a bit. Pretty setter Oikawa Tooru doing a livestream? Spicy.

“Not surprising to assume that. He’s a pretty setter after all, but no, I don’t see Oikawa-san that way.” How in the world does this turnip head always manages to say what’s on his mind?

Kawanishi acts surprised but looks like he has something more to say. “Oh right now I remember, you don’t like Oikawa but you _did_ like his kouhai. My bad, I got them mixed up.” He sticks his fucking tongue out again.

Oikawa’s kouhai? He couldn’t possibly be talking about—

“Yeah ok, Kageyama was the person I liked.” Kindaichi sighs in defeat, pulling his chair up for him to use as a foot stool to sit on the table. Atsumu cringes. “Both of us had our differences and sorted out issues we never bothered trying to fix. Mostly one-sided, honestly. We’re cool now.”

Kageyama Tobio. The bane of his existence. He considered him a rival of the century. The guy could toss a neat set. No doubt the raven haired crow has been making an impact with his mean spikes. He assumes this under Ushikawa’s supervision. Talk about being a goody two shoes.

“Ask him to hang out with you. Swoon the king with your milf knowledge.”

“Funny you suggested. I did ask him out.”

Kawanishi leans closer.

Sarukui leans closer.

The fucking class leans closer. Secretly, of course.

“AND?”

And… Kindaichi sighs for the 50th time within the last 10 minutes. “As expected, he turned me down.” He turns his gaze upwards, asking for divine intervention. “I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s still into his best friend.”

A series of “aww’s” and sniffs were heard. Kindaichi spins his head so fast Atsumu thought it was going to fall off. He shoots everyone a glare.

“Hey!! I remember a nasty rumor about that last year.” A nameless scrub chimed in to their discussion. “Isn’t Kageyama’s best friend the camboy Oikawa had an affair with when he was in Brazil last summer?”

Kindaichi raises a brow at the guy and shrugs. “I’m not going to divulge into that and start another issue. The little guy is cool. He’s always present in every Karasuno match. Kageyama introduced him around the same month we resolved our dispute.”

Atsumu tried to recall the series of incidences that happened last year. He’s definitely heard something similar before in the locker room. Hanging out with Bokuto does that to anyone. The outside hitter doesn’t directly involve himself with petty rumors but oddly enough, team mates confide in him to see his reaction. They’re comical most of the time but he finds Fukurodani’s former star setter, Akaashi Keiji’s humor more tasteful.

Polar opposites as they were, Bokuto and Akaashi, the pair will be celebrating their 5 year anniversary next week. And as Bokuto’s boyfriend, this meant that his principles were an extension of Akaashi’s. He wasn’t fond of entertaining hearsays. The guy is totally whipped, he could lap the setter’s foot if he asked. Almost as whipped as Kindaichi not realizing he was emitting an air around him that says “drop the topic or I’ll scream.”

“Wow you really like Kageyama.. Mentioning Chibi-chan turned your mood sour. Let’s drop this now before you start screaming.” Seriously what the hell is up with these telepathic people?? “I’d lowkey tap Chibi-chan if given the chance so I feel you Kindai-chin, I feel you.”

Whether Kindaichi’s face turned bright red from the compliment this scrub said about a potential rival or he did not appreciate the cutesy nickname he offhandedly created, he tried to hide the blush dusting his cheeks but not before slamming his fist on the table. It looks like he was about to say something about the comment until the door slams open. The professor drops her books on the table, indicating that class was about to start.

So. That was a rather bizarre turn of events. Atsumu usually didn’t keep his ears open for those kinds of conversation. He finds it strange visualizing a person he knew from practice and official matches having a life of their own.

Take Kageyama Tobio, for example. The kid has a reputation for being stoic. His sexuality? Volleyball. Relationship status? Schweiden Alders’ setter. He was exclusive to both titles. Well, now he knows there’s a small cleft in his exceptional façade, he wonders what Tobio-chan’s muse was like.

Guess Friday can wait for a bit.

* * *

This is probably the most out of character thing Atsumu has ever done in his life but all he could think about was that he’s got nothing else to do. What is there to lose? He was curious as fuck for all the inexplicable reasons.

Atsumu sets his water bottle by the nightstand before collapsing on his bed. He pulls out his phone from his back pocket. How does one initiate this?

To put out all the info relayed by the scrubs from his morning class, he lists down the important details to track the infamous “chibi-chan”. So far he has: Kageyama Tobio and Oikawa Tooru.

He assumes Tobio has active social medias. Athletes were not particularly required to do so but having one that’s accessible helps boost their popularity.

It doesn’t help that Atsumu’s follow page had none at all so he drags himself to type Tobio’s name on Twitter’s search bar. True enough, his verified account stands proud at 70,000 followers. He immediately clicks on the follow list although Atsumu was fairly certain “chibi-chan” won’t be there. Of the three accounts he follow, none of them were for personal use. Tobio only follows V.League News, Schweiden Adlers Official and the damn curry company he had his commercial on.

He tries to broaden the hunt by using Google but all he sees is a bunch of sports news articles and video compilations. An Instagram account caught his sight but to his dismay, it was private and unused, judging from the 2005 crazy frog profile picture it had.

Atsumu pauses for a bit. Kageyama Tobio was a private person, expectedly so, and knowing the mishap from last year, he had no choice but to cross out Tobio from the search.

This leaves him to Oikawa Tooru, the Grand King of high school volleyball… and publicity stunts.

He never had a single interaction with the setter but people talk and he simply didn’t give a damn when they hyped him up back then.

And so the quest for Oikawa Tooru’s accounts is set in motion. Upon searching, it narrows down to three most active: Twitter, Instagram and Youtube. There’s no way Atsumu’s browsing two hundred Twitter users in his follow list so he settles for his Instagram. Thankfully the app has a search function for both follow and followers list. Luck was not on his side yet again as he sees zero related accounts no matter how many combinations of chibi-chan he attempted. He curses under his breath.

Eventually, he gives up. Tomorrow’s another day. Turnip guy might send telepathic signals to his row again and maybe Atsumu can get another hint? A full name, perhaps?

After about five minutes of screen break from his phone, Atsumu decided to take a peek of Oikawa’s Youtube. No harm watching a few videos to see if he’s hot shit.

As if his header was not grand enough, a video autoplays the moment the page loads its thumbnails and buttons. Suddenly, he regrets loading the page at all.

“YAAHOOO~ WHAT’S COOKIN WHAT’S POPPIN IT’S YA BOI, OIKAWA TOORU AND WELCOME TO MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL!!” Atsumu closes this shit in an instant but not before seeing the fucking tongue. Needless to say, Kindaichi was excused.

Right. Today was another waste then. All this unsuccessful totally-not-stalking-just-casually-researching only caused dread to Atsumu’s deteriorating existence.

Not only did he find out that Oikawa Tooru was a fucking clown, his underclassman had a more thrilling summer break (totally-not-a-stressful-scandal) and the fact drives him _nuts_.

To add more insult to the injury, Tobio had more followers because of a dumb advertisement a foolish production company haphazardly came up with (we all see Tobio looking around for the camera ya idoits), Atsumu was _livid_. He could have done _better_.

_I really don’t care_ , he tells himself caringly as he cares deeply. Atsumu can feel the hot guy summer in him defrosting. It’s not even May yet.

Speaking of May.. the miserable extra mentioned Oikawa’s affair last summer. Surely Oikawa has that documented somewhere among hundreds of videos he produced. Brilliant. The search continues then. Atsumu reminds himself to thank him tomorrow for adding necessary plot device.

He revisits the Youtube page and clicks on the video tab. A number of thumbnails started popping out one by one. Each preview had captions in bright neon text. He drags a finger through the screen, searching for Brazil and summer in its title.

At this point, Atsumu should just open every video from March-October last year because all of them showcased the sunny country. After a few moments, he picks out a random video called “Fever Dream Summer” from May.

Oikawa appears on the screen, behind him was a white sandy beach which had the most turquoise-blue water Atsumu’s ever seen. The place looks incredibly laidback and beautiful in the face of multitude of locals gathered on a fine sunny day. Judging from how much Oikawa was having fun, it’s like he’s in own paradise. In his mind he concludes how he could never achieve that kind of enthusiasm.

The camera adjusts so that it shows the background. Oikawa narrates what he sees: from his surroundings to the people nearby. They don’t particularly know him, Atsumu presumes as people did their best to keep themselves at arm’s length from his camera. The quality was top-notch at 1080p so it must have cost a couple of grand.

“Oikawa-san!!! Wait up..” Atsumu hears a tiny voice who was panting breaths for his life. Sounds like he ran a marathon. “You run so fast I can’t keep up with you anymore.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes. “That’s because you’re too small for my brisk walking.” The camera swivels to show his watchers the person he was with, but not before the orange-haired kid hides his face. He looks shy and frail.

“Bwah, this reeks. It’s not like I’m 160 cm anymore… Besides, I’m catching up fast since the last time we jogged together!” The tiny voice brags, he sounds very eager about it.

“Baby steps. A truly fitting skill for chibi-chan.”

**!!!**

Atsumu’s ears perked up. Did he just hear the word he’s been looking for the past hour? Or was his mind playing tricks?

The noise coming out of his phone became a blur, his focus lost in a sea of thoughts. The object of his interest suddenly within reach. Almost. Attentively, he pays extra attention to the scene before him.

Nothing of importance was being played out in the video. Atsumu concentrates on hearing chibi-chan, a voice so soft yet so vigorous.

The video goes on and about. Oikawa found a spot to play one on one beach volleyball with chibi-chan. Ignoring the terrible camera angle (mostly because it was facing chibi-chan’s back, nobody can see what he looks like), Atsumu admired the way they played even if the video speed was rolled 4x faster. Breath catches his throat as the video speed slowed down to show the viewers how chibi-chan jumped an impressive height from where he was standing, almost reaching the net.

He wonders what it would be like to set for this guy. Atsumu felt the magnetic draw to him.

Ten minutes into the video, the pair took a break. Beads of sweat evident from their faces after an hour’s worth of volleyball. The screen shakes for a bit, it rotates so that the focus is zoomed in at Oikawa shirtless on the beach, his swim trunks hanging low enough to reveal his perfectly crafted abs. Atsumu hears chibi-chan getting flustered as the setter grins at the camera, grasping his tiny free hand to rub all over Oikawa’s abdomen. Sensually.

What a fucking turn on. This guy knows how to play well, in every way possible.

In the wake of a newfound _sensual_ tension apparent from the eyes of onlookers, Oikawa talks about his friendship with chibi-chan. Apparently they met way before Kindaichi but was introduced to each other in a similar fashion. Both of them were transparent— whereas Oikawa did not approve of chibi-chan hanging out with Tobio because he was a distraction, chibi-chan admired him greatly for being his best friend’s upperclassman and drive to become a better setter.

As the conversation progressed, Atsumu caught the slip of nickname when Oikawa was gushing about how glad he was for giving this friendship a chance when he never even thought of speaking to him ever during high school. From there on, “Shou-chan” was never uttered again.

Just when Atsumu expected the topic to be over with, it was surprisingly dragged on longer and Oikawa was now sharing the happenstance of meeting Shou-chan in a foreign country three years after their introduction.

He talks about teaching Shou-chan how to set and serve.

He talks about tutoring Shou-chan to learn more Portuguese.

He talks about bonding with Shou-chan since he was the only Japanese around.

He talks about claiming Shou-chan’s firsts, open for interpretation.

To summarize half of the entire video’s content, Oikawa describes the time he spent with Shou-chan a _passionate summer tryst_ he was willing to venture over and over again. He says this as his dominant hand squeezes Shou-chan’s thigh. _Sensually_.

And then.. the video was over before he knew it.

He didn’t even notice when but he feels stiffness pulsing as it strains against his joggers.

Atsumu was confused.

* * *

Every once in a while, Atsumu browses for porn to relieve himself. When he was too tired to pick up girls (or guys) in the club, he’d open a dating app and invite them in his flat. A swipe to the right and a few lines of sweet talk, minimal effort to get you laid? It was so ideal to him.

There was no shame in porn and hook ups, it’s quite common in this culture anyway. As much as it pains him to do so, he imagines Osamu doing the same thing when he gets the chance, and maybe even more.

For some reason there’s something weird yet oddly thrilling about purposely entering a site to look for a specific person. And to what? The question remains unanswered. Watching Shou-chan from Oikawa’s video is proof enough that his body meant business. Dismissing the fact that he knew what Shou-chan does, the last thing he could visualize is him participating in this line of work. Nothing wrong with it though. He just looked so.. innocent.

Finding Shou-chan’s main livestream site did not take him too long compared to when he only had chibi-chan typed in the search bar. Out of ten chibi-chan related camsites, Atsumu confirms an account when he sees the same orange head. He enters the site to find a still-moving grainy screen and a moderately active chat box.

On the right side, he sees lines of texts moving upwards per second, most of them praising Shou-chan’s looks and asking a lot of questions. On the left side is a screen where the viewers watch, below the stream player is what he assumes as the title for today’s show: “My Viewer Monday ♡ Q&A!!”

How cute.

Atsumu blinks at his phone, baffled as to why the screen was so grainy. As he clicks on Shou-chan’s hair, a window popped up. “To view the stream in full, please sign up!” it says. Ah.

One reason Atsumu doesn’t have a lot of accounts in the first place compared to most guys his age: the process of signing up. There’s something about filling out data online that made him exasperated. It wasn’t a lot of work but the effort, he can do without.

Before tapping on the button to complete the process, he noticed the username he supplied in the box. Atsumu was so used having the same credentials on every personal accounts he had, he forgets that this is the first time he signs up for a porn site. His coach will chew him out when he finds out.

So he musters up the first three words that came in his mind: samu.god.jp

Samu because he’s not dumb enough to put tsumu or Atsumu for the site to trace the account back to him. Samu because he genuinely misses his brother, he’d know how to help him with his dilemma if he was around. Samu because… just in case.. and he’d be in less trouble.

God because he needs one right now.

Jp because mother fucking Nihon bitch.

After reviewing his information one last time, Atsumu is now successfully signed up in the site. There’s an email for verification and he’s never tapped on a link so hard ever. He reloads the site and waits for the stream to load.

Atsumu was expecting a plethora of horny boys in chat, begging for their chibi-chan to take off his black Karasuno hoodie and play with himself.. or something like that because.. that’s what he would’ve done.

The stream finally loads… and Atsumu was in love?

Breath catches in his throat the second time this evening, an establishing pattern instigated by the sunshine revealed in his device. This time, it was his turn to describe chibi-chan.

Where does Atsumu even begin?

Shou-chan flashes a crooked smile as he converses with the viewers in chat, pearly white teeth baring between fleshy light-pink lips and Atsumu finds this endearing.

Shou-chan’s eyes flew open after contemplating which words to say and Atsumu couldn’t even blink, lost in the sight of the most breathtaking caramel brown eyes he’s ever seen.

Shou-chan’s almost-heart-shaped face was crowned by a mop of bright orange hair, falling in curves around his face and neck, soft, unruly waves everywhere else.

Shou-chan wrinkles his button nose seeing the first rude chat of the night and Atsumu wants nothing more than to kick the shin out of this ‘moonshima31’ person when they wrote “if you can’t grow height at least grow some brain”

Is this… is this what simping is like? Oh god, is this the karma he gets making fun of Hirugami and Hoshiumi’s power dynamic in their relationship? Life is uno-reversing the hell out of him. It should bother him right? But why.. does his heart flutter, distracted just by hearing Shou-chan’s voice? What is this??

_What made you hate your body? You're so perf. :c <3 Also ignore moonshima he’s just jealous that you’re so cute!!_

Shou-chan reads the question before answering. "My dream has always been to become a famous volleyball player, and I won't gush about how or why, you already know that."

He laughs heartily before adjusting the camera in an angle where he's at chin length and the ceiling is visible. Removing himself from his seat, he flops on the bed, rolling around once before standing up.

"My bed is a foot length from the ground and from where I'm standing, the ceiling is around... uhh.. twelve feet high?" It was a rhetorical question but the way Shou-chan folds his arms across his chest, both eyes and mouth furrowed close as if he's in deep thought, made the viewers actually calculate. Atsumu snorts at the screen before checking the chat room. What a dork.

Shou-chan’s eyes flicker open, realizing there’s no point in keeping his litany. “To save everyone from doing math, my height at the moment is 170cm but when I was younger, I stand at 162cm. The numbers in comparison aren’t crazy big but in volleyball, every centimeter counts...”

Atsumu nods in approval. Sure, he qualified in height for every sports screening so he can never relate to Shou-chan’s situation but with the amount of individuals trying to earn a starting line-up from his high school, Inarizaki High, the closest to volleyball the new students and non-referral players can get is becoming their ball boy. Not only did their team focus on skills but height is greatly considered in the game. As far as Atsumu knows, this applied to thriving schools in all prefectures.

“Volleyball is a sport where you compete in height and natural power. What sort of scene is on the other side? What will I be able to see there? Before I knew it, the wall was already too high for me to climb. It blocked the path where I can view from the top. A scenery I will never be able to see.” Shou-chan slides his head downwards, there’s a sad look in his feature. “My enthusiasm wasn’t enough to keep my love for the sport and into a team. It’s not like me to give up but over the years I realized it isn’t my place to stay, and maybe, just maybe, some things weren’t meant to be.”

Atsumu’s heart wrenched hearing the pain in Shou-chan’s voice. Of the few hours he spent watching and listening, one thing was certain: he never wants to hear him choke a sob as he shares his story. Shou-chan was meant to be happy and he’d do what it takes to make that happen. Is it unusual to feel this sort of attachment to a guy he’s never met before?

Just this morning, he was complaining to the world how dull his life was, that even volleyball, a sport he was sure he loved, did not cut him slack. Everything he wanted, he had. Money, popularity and raw talent.

And Shou-chan.

He may not know what his past was like but he can tell, _anyone can tell_ , how he’s the type to work hard to achieve his dreams. Anyone can tell how much he loves volleyball. Anyone can tell by watching Oikawa’s video. Anyone can tell it must have taken him years of training to perfect his skills.

For the world to deprive him the passion he felt during his youth because of these circumstances— how unfair.

The desolation entangled inside Atsumu’s chest was disrupted as Shou-chan answers a new question. This time he’s sitting on a chair, eyes puffy and slightly red, probably from forcing himself not to weep in front of the camera. There’s a small smile in his face, reassuring the audience that he’s okay. God, everything about him is so soft.

“Um, I work 6 hours a day and then stream whenever I can for extra money.” He trails to where his finger is pointing, down to the direction where a small donation box with cursive text was written. “Not going to tell what my work is to avoid stalkers, sorry!!”

Below the stream video player, Atsumu sees four banners with short paragraphs in each section, namely: About Me, Stream Details, Donation Box and Donation Details.

Atsumu reads through Shou-chan’s profile. Ignoring the ridiculous amount of pastels and weird text faces, a portion caught his attention. There are package deals for certain amounts of donation.

For 25 cherries, you can avail custom colors.  
For 50 cherries, you can avail Chibi-chan emotes for global use.  
For 100 cherries, you can request a song.  
For 500 cherries, you can be invited to call for 30 mins or message for an hour.  
For 1000 cherries, you can send a buddy request and be approved.

Before Atsumu begins his 10 page essay about his experience so far, he heaves a breath in slow paces because boy is this going to be messy. First of all, cherries, adorable. Second, the idea of rewarding viewers for purchasing a.. service (?) is a common tactic used in streaming, based from what he remembers in Kenma’s live gaming videos. To apply this strategy in a sacrilegious site to commit sacrilegious acts.. Atsumu can’t tell if it was smart or overkill.. which brings the next topic in hand: the amenities.

Custom colors and emotes? Understandable. Even if Atsumu was not the type of person to watch streams of any kind, he recognizes the concept of subscription. Consider this as volleyball: if he sees more people watching and supporting his games, he thrives. When he does, his performance level spikes, which is beneficial to his team’s winning factor. In Chibi-chan’s terms, viewers donate and Chibi-chan.. shares more content? Yes? That’s how it must be. The colors and emotes were just tools to make them look like cool kids in chat. Atsumu may not be the smartest guy in the hay but he was not born from yesterday.

Requesting a song is self-explanatory but Atsumu pondered whether it was worth that much cherry. Wait, why does he care??? The line of reasoning when it came to Shou-chan was limitless.

The last two services (?) were the highlight of the donation box. He was surprised to see a scattering amount of names listed in both. Atsumu was tempted to erase everyone so that his name was the only one in it.

Skimming through the entire profile again, he finds out that Shou-chan doesn’t always perform nsfw every stream time and today was one of the rare days where he’s completely wholesome. The palm of Atsumu’s left hand figured this out not so long ago.

In conclusion, everything in this site is dumb and why he had the gall to remain in the stream for over an hour was beyond him but… he was Atsumu fucking Miya, bored, humble, confused, and all things considered.. in love?

There were no other words to justify the exhilaration he felt at this very moment.. and it was only the beginning of Tuesday morning. Japan is made up of a hundred million people and not a single person piqued his interest… until now. It was starting to bother him, what he’s about to do— how he mechanically types in a huge sum of dosh like it was pocket change. The only difference was the emotion he felt from the lack of response. A few minutes later, he scores one. And as one goes, Atsumu types a comeback to the fruit head’s taunt almost immediately.

* * *

**samu.god.jp** **♥** **has gifted 5000 cherries!!**  
Message:

_“You’re a menace to my soul yet you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.”_

Hinata pauses for a moment to check if his eyes were deceiving him. He rubs both eyes for everyone to see. Hinata also did the math, as much as he hated doing so…

The site has a donation system and the currency they use is called “cherry”. It is also international based but has the option to choose local viewers only. Hinata opted for international viewers since that’s how he gets most of his traffics. A dollar is equivalent to 1 cherry. A dollar is worth a hundred yen or so. If a dollar is multiplied to five-thousand.. he gets five thousand dollars… Right? Or is there a new age mathematics that he isn’t aware of because how is this stranger able to afford—

Before he could formulate a conclusion, his thoughts were interrupted as more notifications kept popping off. He also failed to realize that he’s been staring at the screen for five whole minutes. Hinata's face heats up in embarrassment.

Greatkingx420x: ??? did my screen freeze or hwat  
_chibichan_stan: samu broke Chibi-chan hahahahaha  
__daddyxlongxdesk: This guy has no life  
__vomitchant: Shaking my bread…. To be honest family…  
__T_ _♥_ _Chibi: life is not daijobu.. please be my daddy samu_

Hinata scrolls up a bit to see this samu person’s messages in chat. To his surprise, there were none. Usually Hinata doesn’t bother looking up profiles of his audience unless he had to block or report them for spam. Curiosity gets the best of him, however, as he clicks on the name to see if samu was a regular or a big shot contributor because there is no way this random man..or woman is giving away 6 months’ worth of rent within a snap of a finger. Yet again to his surprise, the account was made today and more specifically, two hours ago.

Hinata squints his eyes and flattens his hair to imitate a certain friend of his. How does one play this out?

Still displayed in the screen, Hinata reads the donation pop-up again. This time he speaks them out, word per word.

“Samu dot got dot jp has gifted five thousand cherries.” Hinata flinches visibly at the amount plastered in the screen but seeing the message below, he grins nonetheless. “You’re a menace to my soul yet you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. _”_ Then he adds, “Big words from a guy behind a screen.”

It wasn’t like him to pay attention to anything for a long period of time, let alone a random person, but right now he was doing the exact opposite because, yeah, he gets way less donation from the one he just got from samu. Four thousand less and all from different patrons.

Yeah, he’s curious about this guy.. or girl, because.. who wouldn’t? Here’s a narration of my life so far, chapter fifteen in, that would be five hundred thousand yen, thank you very much. How does this makes sense?? It simply does not make sense at all… Thinking about it, he doesn’t think anymore… as samu pinged Hinata in chat.

samu.god.jp **♥: @Chibi-chan**  
samu.god.jp **♥: Likewise  
**samu.god.jp **♥: Let’s change that.**

His eyes widen as he gets another notification.

samu.god.jp **♥ has sent a buddy request!**

Hinata was fucked.


	2. shining like a fiery beacon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first two to three chapters are going to be narration heavy to set the characters for the progress of this plot line so it might be boring? idk. i try to add convos as much as i can.
> 
> thank you so much for the kudos and comments in the first chap btw they made me really happy  
> 30 was my cap but then i got 80 and aaaAAa ily all tytytyty
> 
> ps: new tags wink wink

**Atsumu-san:** [So, we still on for tomorrow?]

[hi atsumu-san yes we r if ur still interested that is]

 **Atsumu-san:** [Pft, wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.]

 **[** well,, im nervous]  
[but mostly excited]  
[also im eating so im typing with 1 figner111]

 **Atsumu-san:** [Y’er so silly.]  
**Atsumu-san:** [Nekota Café. 10AM. Ya?]

[u got that rightyo]

 **Atsumu-san:** [Cool. See ya tomorrow, sunshine (;]

_\--read @ 11:41AM--_

([ ** _Load Previous Messages..._**](https://twitter.com/ShouyouMiya/status/1240599310196039680))

.

.

.

If there’s one thing Hinata Shouyou was good at, it’s wearing his heart on his sleeves. Although it was supposed to be a bad thing, his friends believe otherwise. Honesty and sincerity were morals that are hard to come by in a world full of instant gratification, as one would say. Shouyou hasn’t reached a point in his life yet where he had to struggle expressing what he truly feels. After all, making up excuses to cover up literally anything requires too much brain power.

He doesn’t have it in his heart to meet Tobio’s eyes and lie through his teeth when asked about his sentiments concerning his application to the volleyball club being rejected, nor accept Kenma’s offer wholeheartedly for a recommendation spot to Nekoma so he could transfer schools in the middle of the year. Shouyou was tempted, sure. But it was a huge blow to his ego and it hurt. A lot.

His brand comes from the times he spent during high school. It was admittedly one of Shouyou’s darkest period. Aspiring for a dream he’s been dead-set on achieving the moment his eyes laid on the little giant in a handed-down television behind a glass screen— the squeaky sounds of sneakers moving around as the high schooler hit the ball effortlessly. He leaps from the ground so high, the ceiling lights illuminated a dark shadow under him as if it’s spreading his wings, resembling a strong crow.

The spike hits and they score a point.

Point, after point, after point.

The crowd cheers amidst the booming voices of announcers narrating Karasuno’s play. As the screen darkens for a commercial break, Shouyou sees the reflection of the world for a second.

People were going places. Mothers speaking to their children softly as they walk by. The ojii-sans behind praising their very own Karasuno boys who were up ahead the mountain. Then suddenly, Shouyou had an epiphany.

 _I want to play volleyball._ His mind was determined.

Shouyou has never wanted something so much in his life . So he did what anybody would have done after the realization.

It was after math class when Shouyou barged inside the faculty office, announcing his membership to a volleyball club that doesn’t exist anymore.

The rest of his journey to build a one-man-team during middle school did not end so well as Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High pulverized the year-long efforts of Yukigaoka Junior High.

Any kid his age would be disheartened. Understandably so.

But not Shouyou, no.

Shortly after graduating middle school, Shouyou was set to Karasuno High for obvious reasons. Traveling by bike from his house to school took thirty minutes. It wasn’t so bad compared to commuting.

Karasuno High wasn’t a prestigious school per se. From the basic classrooms, classic uniforms and whatnots, it’s what one should expect in a public school. What Shouyou felt was the exact opposite. The excitement seeps through his entire body. This is where the little giant spent three years of his life!

Formal classes started and as one Hinata Shouyou does, he meets new people. None of them shared his love for volleyball. That’s okay, because this would change soon. He tells himself as he marches his way to the volleyball club. Knowing that it exists satisfied him to the core. Compared to the heartbreak he felt during middle school, nothing else could ever weigh him down like that, right?

Around the time Shouyou was ready for his application to go through, a tall figure was already in the gym. The guy tore his gaze from the ball he was holding and looked at his direction. Shouyou’s eyes widened.

It was the king of the court from his middle school match! Their small reunion was all but welcoming. One thing lead to another, the Karasuno High’s third years arrived not long after—

“Hinata-san?” he jolts as his name was called. Shouyou tips his head up to meet the driver’s face. “Sorry to bother but we have arrived.”

“Don’t mind, don’t mind!” he snickers, previous thoughts completely gone from his mind. The driver bows his head as he clicks the car door open.

Shouyou picks up his bag quickly in an attempt to get off the car before the driver nudges his door open. And as always, he fails every time. The driver laughs lightly.

By now, he should be accustomed to this treatment.

A part of him wants to tell driver-san that he should talk to Shouyou as he normally would to an acquaintance or friend. After all, it’s not like they were far off from each other in terms of social standing. In fact, Shouyou believes he was below driver-san. But of course, that was his self-depreciation speaking for the entirety of his being.

Ridiculous as it sounds knowing the type of side jobs he’s juggling with to meet financial stability, Shouyou was glad most of the friends he kept in touch all these years were respectful of the path he chose after high school.

Each time he ran into trouble regardless of how trivial it was, his support system will find ways and know how to help. Shouyou shudders at the thought of Tanaka-senpai and Noya-senpai threatening one out of the x stalkers he had away from the country side a few years ago. If he was the offender then he’d gladly fly out of the country.

Meaning to say no matter how much he wants to avoid the inevitable day where he has to consult the guidance of his close friends regarding important matters at hand, such as meeting a renowned star player under the name of Miya Atsumu, there was no way for him to convince himself that he is in any condition to be able to act normally within the reach of a volleyball player who won against Nicolas Romero.

Which brings him to his current predicament: Kenma’s living room. At least two feet apart from each other. Matcha crackers and green tea served. Shouyou’s phone in Kenma’s gripping hand, a hard sigh heard every now and then. Almost as hard as the look in his face, one scroll at a time.

Now that Shouyou had a moment of peace, he tries to recall every last bit of messages and emojis exchanged between him and Atsumu. When he thinks about it, there really wasn’t a problem. Atsumu was extremely friendly and outgoing. Although there were times Shouyou thought that he said something wrong, the guy would come back a few hours later with lengthy strings of text, acting as if nothing happened earlier on.

“Ok,” Kenma finally utters a word. He didn’t even greet Shouyou at the door, much to his dismay. Just slides the shōji open to let him in and follows like the good friend he is. Not like he’s unfamiliar with the house.

“I read everything.” he sips his tea. “Well. Skim through some parts.”

Shouyou’s face heats up from the focus on _some parts_. “Figured you’d do.. I mean, this is all new to me, you know?”

Which really is true. Dating was out of the equation during his younger years, his love for volleyball was enough to sustain his hierarchy of needs. There was no room to think about anything else other than improving. Anyway, Shouyou had the slightest idea of what dating was like when Oikawa-san and Suga-san were still together. Not even a month after, the two parted ways.

“You’re right, Shouyou.” Kenma agrees, placing his cup down. “What do you plan on doing?”

“Bwwwahhh I don’t know!!” He honestly doesn’t. “That’s why I’m here Kenmaaaa. Give me an idea on what to do for this meet-up..”

Kenma snorts. “Meet-up. Alright.”

“Kenmaaaaaa.”

He sighs for the umpteenth time. “Do what comes out naturally. You make it sound like it’s a friendly meet. From what I’ve seen in the texts, Miya Atsumu is clearly interested in you.”

The lack of honorific was accentuated. “How can you tell that?”

Kenma shrugs, picking up his own phone to play a game.

“Since your hunch is always right… I’m gonna ignore what you just implied. Or you know, maybe that’s how he talks in general?” Shouyou fiddles his thumb.

“Yup.” Kenma pops the p and smashes the screen with his fingers.

“It’s a shame that there’s no memory of him in my big brain juice. If he’s a great player then how come I never heard of Atsumu-san before?”

“Uh. Shouyou? Big brain juice is like you saying your brain is all mushed.” A [future synth music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jnD6dF0u_s) plays from his phone. “Yuck.”

Shouyou laughs at his friend’s attempt on humor.

“All inside that pretty little head of yours.”

Shouyou stops laughing at his friend’s attempt on flirting.

“KENMAAAAAA,”

This time, it was Kenma’s turn to laugh.

“Just kidding,” he doesn’t spare Shouyou a glance. “But not really.”

How could he forget? Kenma did ask him out two years ago.

Ah, right.. Of course he forgets..

Because Kenma isn’t like all other guys who actively flirted and made advances to swoon him. If anything, he was more of a _caretaker but never a taker_ kind of suitor. Despite this, the air around them never felt awkward. Maybe it’s because of how their friendship developed over the years.

“Though I must admit,” there was a beep. The noise coming from his phone was softer but the music kept playing . Kenma must have paused the game. “Can’t believe one sugar daddy isn’t enough for you. My feelings are hurt..”

 _What._ Shouyou says this out loud.

“What the heck, Kenma!! Atsumu-san is not my s..sugar daddy..” he argues, picking up two crackers from the table.

“I know,” Kenma unpauses his game. “Just trying to rile you up. By the way, tell me how that happened.”

Shouyou prefaces his fairy dadparent chronicles by reminding Kenma that no, he isn’t interested in anyone at the moment nor is he actively looking. Second, the colossal amount of cash is a one-time thing and if Atsumu-san donates a remotely similar amount _within-ever_ , he would have to decline. Was this unfair? Perhaps. But taking so much made him feel indebted without the intention to.

As for Kenma, his aid was enough to sustain groceries for a long time. After months and months of insisting to have cooked meals delivered at his house, who was he to deprive him of an actual healthy menu? Managing a company and streaming games during his free time, Shouyou was fairly certain that Kenma’s last concern was his health.. and maybe housecleaning. Unless it’s his bedroom and game room.

Once in a while Kuroo would drop by to check up on his best friend, if not take care of him… or do the housecleaning. Speaking of which.. “How are you and Kuroo-san?”

“We’re doing great.” At least the answer wasn’t a single word this time.

Shouyou presses further. “Any.. um..”

“Spit it out.”

He pretends to gag, exposing his mouth in the process.

“Please stop.”

Then he swallows. “Roger!!”

“Thank you.”

Is it strange to ask a friend, who likes him by the way, if he and his best friend, who likes his friend by the way, are doing great.. romantically speaking? Would that be rude? Kenma urges him to talk more about the Atsumu-san incident. Now he’ll never know.

Amidst the jab he received earlier (in which Shouyou kept claiming that Atsumu-san is not a sugar daddy!!), he continues relaying information about conversations between him and Atsumu.

The story goes on. Shouyou could feel the tenderness in his chest as words kept coming out from his mouth. An ordinary person would have halted him in the middle of talking to point out how this was all overwhelming for them. With Kenma, it felt natural to speak about anything. His friend always encouraged him to go on. The thought made him extremely happy.

From observation, Kenma doesn’t look too vexed about everything he laid out. Aside from more playful teasing, he assisted Shouyou picking out clothes to wear for tomorrow. Over the years, Kenma picked up a thing or two about dressing up. Fashion was more than just oversized hoodies and unwashed pants. Kuroo advise. Take it or leave it.

Before they knew it, the clock strikes at 8. Ready to go home, Shouyou gets up but not without carrying the takeout trashes for him to throw out as Kenma walks him out. It’s already late. Tomorrow he had to get up early to meet Atsumu.

“Should I drive you home instead?” Kenma offers as Shouyou ties his shoes. The same driver from this afternoon was waiting outside. Shouyou turns himself around to see Kenma leaning on the doorway.

“No thank you! Driver-san and I will be fine.” He brings himself in Kenma’s space to give his friend a hug, the latter returns the gesture. “Thank you for today Kenma. I enjoyed spending time with you. Let’s meet again soon!”

They stayed like this for a while until Shouyou pulls away. Slowly taking in the moment, Kenma traces the wicked smile spread cross his friend’s face, under the moonlight where his features were illuminated. He never realized how Shouyou’s lips looked so soft and pink. How the apples of his cheeks flushes almost too quickly from the cold breeze during night time. And his eyes, the best of them all, how they shine each time they spent together. It was at this moment, he knew…

“Take care, Shouyou. [Text me when you get home](https://twitter.com/ShouyouMiya/status/1240599362981392384).” Kenma ruffles his hair before watching the two figures retreat towards the empty, dark streets. The car engine revs up. His heart flutters seeing Shouyou wave good bye to him from his car.

With a light clench of his fist, Kenma watches the vehicle drive away. Eventually, he retreats to the comfort of his home.

.

.

.

✩★✩

_Rest well, little swan  
_ _The Earth shall watch you sleep  
_ _When the sun peeks at the crack of dawn  
_ _Who are you going to keep?_

**Friday. 9:00AM**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Shouyou opens his eyes unwillingly, the sunlight blaring through his curtain. An uncomfortable vibration launched through his right shoulder. Did he fall asleep on his toy or something?? Rolling to the other side of the bed in an attempt to grab his phone without lifting a muscle, the screen brightens as he taps the home button once to check the time. Below the date were messages from Atsumu-san. Shouyou lifts his hand up so that he could twist the window screen and adjusts the height of the offensive cloth suspended at his ceiling. Now the room was dark and he could read the message clearly.

 **Atsumu-san:** [Mornin’, Shouyou-kun.]  
**Atsumu-san:** [See ya later :)]

\-- _sent @ 7:04AM_ \--

It was nice enough to know that Atsumu-san bothered to text in the morning to remind him of their meet-up. The fact that he woke up so early gave Shouyou an idea of what he does during those times.. Most athletes have strict routines so he assumes that Atsumu-san was out for a morning jog before sending the message.

In an instant, Shouyou was out of the bed to wash his face and pick out the outfit he and Kenma agreed on yesterday, much to his friend’s reluctance. He checks himself out not long after— a plain yellow hoodie and brown pants. That’s right. Either he goes all in or all out and in this case, it’s somewhere in the middle because, as he kept insisting to Kenma, this was not a date!!

Not knowing whether he was going to be too nervous or awkward around Atsumu-san, he’d at least satisfy himself wearing the most comfortable apparel there is in his closet. Hey, this was the better choice compared to his pastel ONIKU hoodie. He wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea about Atsumu-san hanging out with a high schooler.

Yep. This was ok. He’s all set. For disaster..rific.

_Stay positive, Shouyou!!—_

“Where are you going?”

Shouyou flips the sneakers he was absent-mindedly working on as a voice echoes out of nowhere. He lands on his butt with a light thud. Good thing he wasn’t tying his shoes by the wall like he usually does, else he would’ve felt weak in the knees and saddled the floor much louder. A foot taps on his temple. He swats it away.

“Kei!! You can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

The bastard, Kei, doesn’t seem fazed at all. “I pay half of the expenses in this household. Should I not act as I please in my own place or did you forget that we were sharing it at all?”

No, of course he doesn’t forget.

Tsukishima Kei, another one from his circle of close friends during high school, was one of the people who doesn’t share a speck of his personality and yet here they were, under the same roof.

He pouts. “To answer your previous question,” Sliding a foot in his sneakers. “I’m going out to meet a friend. Don’t wait for me and eat your lunch!”

Kei clicks his tongue before going back to his room. “Ok.” Then he adds, “Wait for me, I’ll take you there.”

Shouyou’s blood runs cold.

“Uhhhhh,” How should he play this out? “That’s not necessary!! Nekota Café is nearby so—”

“Nekota Café? Good. Need a breakfast takeout anyway.”

Shouyou hasn’t even finished internalizing whether he should make excuses so Kei doesn’t have a reason to go with him but then the blonde reappears three minutes later, putting on a brown coat. “You good to go?”

Now what?

.

.

✩★✩

.

.

Throughout the stroll, Shouyou felt his nerves spike up at every huff and puff Kei made. Maybe he was unaware of it, but Kei also kept glancing his way as if he was waiting for him to speak up. As if Kei knew he was hiding something.. someone. The thought made him a bit uneasy but only because he didn’t want him to worry. There was nothing to tell.

For the most part, Shouyou knew Kei was doing this out of concern. Last year was a prime of example of why his friends had the right to do so. Was it overbearing? A little bit, but none that he couldn’t endure.

A part of him aches when he remembers the events that took place before Kei and Kenma took it upon themselves to take care of him. The distress of being stalked to work was no joke. It doesn’t help that this happened frequently. Bringing it up to anyone would only cause trouble. What if he was just imagining things? Who would want to stalk him anyway? What if this person shared a similar route with him? Shouyou hates being an inconvenience. At that time, he was content knowing he slept through nights without crossing any danger.

It was fine for a while.

Until it isn’t.

Scattered envelopes. A fruits basket. Plastic full of groceries and supplies. Once or twice a week, these were some of the things he comes home to after a long day at work. Shouyou hesitated bringing them in at first. Without much thought, he searches through his phone messages or a note in the mountain of stuff sitting in front of his doorstep, seeking any sort of clue to whom these might’ve been from.

The thought of receiving necessities for his daily living was comforting. It’s no secret among his friends and viewers about his status—

Then the gears stopped rolling.

Shouyou has been streaming for a few months now. He’s so dedicated to please his viewers that he doesn’t realize the boundaries of information he should and shouldn’t be sharing. Maybe he accidentally told them which city he was in? Which convenience store he was working for? They must have figured out his schedule as well, seeing the pattern of his stream time and all. Was he overreacting? Should he be worried?

As if on cue, he hears footsteps by the staircase behind him. Shouyou freezes in his spot. The noise was getting louder and faster but he couldn’t tell if it was nearby. His heart was beating so fast, the only noise louder than the footsteps were the ringing in his ears.

Shouyou’s hand fumbles on his keys, quickly pushing the object inside the keyhole and twisting it so hard, he thought he might’ve broken it. The door was pushed open and it was shut fast with much force, but not before seeing a slim man who seemed like he was in a hurry. Locking the door, he steps back a bit. Was that the person following him around?

Anxiety swells up in his chest at the thought of a possible threat right outside his safe place and the only thing between them was a ramshackle door.

Releasing a shaky breath, he steps back more, then waits a bit before squatting down slowly to take a peek at the narrow space separating the floor and the door. There were no shadow or presence anymore.

Relief settles him as he leans on the wall.

Cursing was never his thing but, _holy shit_ , was that the most terrifying thing that’s happened since Karasuno’s loss against Seijoh.

The anxiety sapped the remaining energy left in him so he slips his day clothes off, washed himself up and retired for the night. The items in his doorstep long forgotten.

Against better judgement, Shouyou went on and about the day after as if nothing happened the night before. This time he had a pepper spray in his pocket. For safety measures. Perhaps he should invest on a stun gun.

Perhaps he should’ve invested on it sooner when the walk down to his apartment suddenly turned downhill as a man behind him loomed discreetly. He noticed the presence for quite some time now.

Taking a sharp turn at every corner of the streets, every second felt like it was his last. He was so scared to turn around.

So when he tearfully pulled out his phone to call the only person who was 5 minutes away from his apartment, the stalker distanced himself but not enough for him to stop. Shouyou releases the breath he’s been holding in as he sees blonde hair within the distance.

He bolts towards his friend and their bodies collide, holding him tight in the process which took Kei by surprise. And Kei sensed the need to protect. Hesitantly, he looks up to see Shouyou’s stalker, eyes bloodshot and skin so pale from the fact that he might’ve been caught red handed. Kei’s scowl was enough to send the guy running off.

Among all other things that happened, Shouyou decided that moving out of his old apartment to live with a close friend was the safer choice. The other two choices were to pack his stuff up to go back home or use up all the money he had in his account to find another apartment with a security system.

Leaving the place was hectic at first. Luckily he didn’t need to adjust too much. On the outside, Kei was admittedly rough and condescending. So when Shouyou steps his foot inside Kei’s apartment in Tokyo, he was very much surprised to see how simplistic and clean the interior was.

Shouyou was extremely thankful.

Despite their differences, Kei has been nothing but gentle.

Time slows down when they were together.

Not because of awkwardness but of the discoveries they unfolded about each other that they weren’t aware of during the times they spent in high school.

Not that they were always together but… who knew that behind a disdainful Kei was a warm, caring heart when need be. And behind a carefree Shouyou was an antsy baby when he was alone.

Recalling his past has always sent him in a rollercoaster of emotions that he doesn’t notice the silence between him and Kei was stretched far too long. Much to his liking, he deemed the need to bring up the fact on why his friend was around. “Sorry for having you walk me to the café.. Isn’t today your day off?”

Shouyou hears him scoff. “Don’t be an idiot. It’s not a big deal. Yes, it’s my day off.”

“Still..” he hesitates. “Feels bad that I’m taking precious seconds of your much anticipated alone time.”

Kei chuckles beside him though the sound was anything out of amusement. “Quit being dramatic. That’s on me. Besides,” They continue roaming down the street. “Some weirdo might resurface again. Can’t take that chance.”

Shouyou bumps his friend’s arm. “Thank you, Kei... It truly means a lot.” He shoves both his hands in his pockets. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore! I got a stun gun and pepper spray in my left pocket. My phone’s on the right side..”

“Sure it is but knowing how jumpy you are, it’s no surprise if you happen to shoot your phone instead of the gun.”

“Tsuki mean.” His lips curled into a noticeable pout. “Meanshima. Stingyshima. Crappyshima.”

Kei walks in long, lazy strides. Hands on his sides and shoulders straight. The confidence was oozing. It matches the smug constantly spread across his face.

They kept going, gaze focused ahead.

Kei’s voice softens. “I always worry about you.”

Shouyou doesn’t respond but he smiles fondly at this. He holds Kei’s hand and squeezes it gently. Kei is shocked but he doesn’t shove him off. He didn’t want to sound like a broken record but Shouyou wished he could show Kei how much he means to him. To thank him for existing. To wash away his worries. Because Kei was such a good friend.

A facetious look was shared between the two, silence long enough to fill in a thousand words running through Kei’s mind. He held his breath, unaware of the distance he’s starting to close in. A chilly breeze of Spring’s air blows past. Kei leans forward, eyes plastered at Shouyou’s fluttering lashes. His vision slowly dims, eyes enclosing.. and before they knew it, the chimes of Nekota Café wafts the surrounding.

From the small opening of the polished wooden door, soft chuckles of women seated on the cushiony furniture of the café resonates, along with a [bossa nova tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uW1mfr7Y_mc) Shouyou heard a couple of times whenever he visits. Shouyou and Kei wrinkles their nose as they take a whiff of the pastry and coffee aroma from inside.

Completely dismissing what just happened earlier, the smaller boy releases himself from Kei’s hand, dashing inside the establishment as if it was his first time. Inhaling the faint smell of the café, he felt pride in his chest as he looks around. And much to Kei’s dismay, he sighs but watches his friend in amusement.

Nekota Café used to be a rough sketch that Shouyou and Kenma made out of training camp breaks. Since Shouyou wasn’t a player and there’s no way for him to sneak inside the school, Kenma goes out of his way to meet his friend at a diner nearby. There were times when Tobio, Kei and Kuroo, his and Kenma’s bestfriend respectively, tag along though most of the time it was just the two of them. They prefer it that way anyway. Not that Shouyou minds.

Shouyou remembers doodling on Kenma’s spare tablet, the latter playing an RPG while retelling bits and pieces of what training camps and practice matches were like against four competitively natured schools.

When Shouyou asks more questions out of genuine interest, Kenma answers as-a-matter-of-factly. The way Shouyou’s eyes shine at Kenma’s muted reactions, from an outer perspective it would seem like a one-sided conversation. At least that’s how it looks like before Kenma stole the pen from Shouyou to scribble more cat-related items in his adorable cat café.

But that’s just Kenma.

And that’s just Shouyou.

At the time he had no clue as to what he should do after high school. Growing up, he aspired to become a volleyball player just like the little giant. The way Karasuno’s #10 leapt from one point to another as if he was flying, it stirred something inside Shouyou’s chest. He imagined what it was like— wearing Karasuno’s black and orange jersey, becoming a crow, standing in Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, winning medals..

“Oi. Go pick a table already. I’ll buy for us.”

Shouyou snaps out of his trance and pulls out money from his pocket. The blonde shoves him away before he could hand him the money. Ah, Kei. It’s not like he couldn’t afford to buy a plate of cheesecake or something…

Since it was still early and people are either at school or work, most seats were vacant. Scanning the area, there were 8 people in total, including him and Kei. Still, this doesn’t stop Shouyou from prancing his way to the farthest table. The girls near the souvenir area stared at him as if he grew another head.

Once Shouyou took a seat, he glances at Kei to see what he bought. A bagel was in plain sight. Other than that, there were none. Nobody was in the counter so he assumes that the cashier guy went to the back room to make their drink.

He takes out his phone to see if there were any messages during the walk. Disappointed, he sees zero messages. Then he checks the time. It was only 9:35AM. Guess he got here a little early. Whoops.

When was the last time Shouyou went out to eat? Not that he indulged in fast food often because he very much prefers cooking his own meals. Was it the fact that he worked in a convenience store? Is that why instant food lost its appeal many moons ago?

Around the time of Nekota café’s grand opening, he remembers spending time here almost every day to show his support. The place was close by, so why not?

Shouyou nearly jumps out of his seat when a tray full of pastries was handed right in front of him. Kei bought two strawberry shortcakes, salami and cheese sandwich, a garlic cheese-stuffed bagel, mozzarella sticks and two iced mochas. Shouyou balks at the amount of food right before him. Kei then takes a seat right across him. This confused Shouyou greatly.

“Thanks for the food,” Shouyou grabs sandwich plate which he assumed was his since Kei stole the bagel off the tray. But.. “Um, weren’t you buying to-go?”

Kei rolls his eyes. “Sure. After I meet this _friend_ of yours.” He takes a bite of the bagel. “Who is it anyway?”

The question caught Shouyou off-guard. He almost choked on his sandwich. Kei raises a brow, immediately becoming suspicious of his behavior and avoidance since they got out of the apartment.

“Nobody!!” he finally says, swallowing his food. “Um.. we’ve known each other quite recently. So far he’s nice!!”

“Stop being vague and answer the question.” Kei leans back, his frown viciously crooked and nothing to be taken out of context from the permanent scowl in his face.

“And I have!! He’s a new.. friend.”

“You sound so unsure.”

“Being glared at sure is comfortable..” Shouyou mumbles sarcastically to himself, playing at the utensils next to his plate. He hears the entrance bells jangle and picks on his food.

Kei mutters into his drink, swirling the ice. “Force of habit.”

_“—One chocolate egg pudding for.. meu raio de sol?”_

Suddenly… everyone in the café gets distracted as the server calls an order for “meu raio de sol”. The name alone caught attention. It wasn’t something familiar to the native tongue. Hearing it in Japanese accent was.. something else.

Shouyou jolts up and Kei notices, expectedly so because: one, he never ordered anything. Two, only a few people knew that “chocolate egg pudding” was his favorite Nekota dessert. Either way, he was going to order one after eating what Kei bought. Three, only a few people knew how to translate the name, or rather, what “sunshine” meant in Portuguese, namely Kei, Kenma, Tobio and Atsumu-san..

Seeing the shock in Kei’s expression, now there’s no doubt who it was from. Lastly, he should ignore the order. He _could’ve_ ignored the order but at the back of his mind, he _knew_. It was for him. It was _from him_.

Ignoring Kei’s continuous badgering, his voice fades out as Shouyou concentrates on the surroundings full-on. He looks around to see if anyone was going to get the plate. He also checks his phone to see there were still no messages from anyone. As if on cue, he looks up to see a tall guy picking the plate up. The guy thanks the flushed server who was bowing profusely. Shouyou stares until their caramel eyes met

A yearning look was shared between the two, silence long enough to fill in a hundred questions running through Shouyou’s mind. He held his breath, unaware of the distance the guy is starting to close in, from the counter where he stood, to his and Kei’s table. A chilly breeze of the air conditioning blows past. Shouyou leans back, eyes still plastered at the presence of this gorgeous stranger. His vision slowly brightens, eyes widening.. and before he knew it, the music in the background changes into [a hauntingly beautiful melody](https://youtu.be/7h_LPiteTPw). It lights a fire inside him.

Could this be Atsumu-san?

 _I want it to be._ Shouyou tells himself.

“Hi. Shouyou-kun?” the blonde asks, seemingly testing the taste of his name in his mouth.

Shouyou gulps audibly loud, much to his embarrassment. He felt Kei’s scrutinizing gaze across him, “Yes!! Sorry! Um, Atsumu-san?”

This shouldn’t be so awkward, Shouyou ponders. This was also not how he envisioned his first meeting with a friend he just made two weeks ago. His mind crawls down the drain, thoughts filled with regrets.

Why did Shouyou agree to meet up here? Wasn’t Atsumu-san a few hours away from this place? Does he even like cafés? Oh god and Kei, wasn’t it rude to bring a friend without prior notice? How will Kei react knowing this is the first time he’ll be meeting Atsumu-san? Will he drag him home?

“Didn’t know you were going to bring a friend,” Atsumu distracts his thoughts, a small, genuine smile forms across his face before offering a hand to Kei. “Miya Atsumu. Nice to meet ya.”

Kei grits his teeth but returns the gesture, “Tsukishima Kei.” He watches Atsumu sit beside Shouyou.

Noticing the dark aura across him, Shouyou shoots Kei an apologetic smile, who still had no idea what was happening.

And noticing the awkward shift across him, Kei decides to start. “I wasn't aware that Shouyou knew someone from the Black Jackals, excluding Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu rushed into Shouyou’s space, the latter gesturing him to sit. “Right? We met at a rather amusin’ circumstance.”

“Pray tell what this _amusin’ circumstance_ is.” Kei demanded dryly.

Shouyou took a hold of Kei’s wrist, careful not to let his hand rest on it for long.

“Kei please, it's okay. Atsumu-san and I have been in contact for a while now.” he fidgets in his seat. “This is the first time we're meeting outside text.”

“Outside text? How exactly did you two meet?” Kei asks, highly aware of the change in his tone. Shouyou visibly flinches at this.

Atsumu folds his arms and angles his chin up. “Not to be that guy but don'tcha think yer imposin’ on Shouyou-kun’s affairs?” He runs his eyes on Kei, over and up, finishing with a raised brow. “The little bean looks uncomfortable.”

“Ahh Atsumu-san no, everything's fine.” Shouyou reassures the athlete beside him. “Kei and I have been good friends since high school. He's only looking out for me.”

“Is that so?” Atsumu smirks.

“It is so.” Kei sips on his drink. “Shouyou is a magnet for douche college boys and corrupt grown-ups. You seem to fit in the middle.”

Shouyou slams his hands on the table, mildly horrified at the insult. “Kei!!”

Surprisingly, Atsumu chuckles despite his friend’s curtness. “Don't worry ‘bout it. A douche college boy, yes, that ain't a misconception. I _am_ an asshole.” he waits for a bit to continue. “In addition to that since we're all grown-ups here, I'll be direct.”

Atsumu reaches out to take Shouyou’s hand, tenderly intertwining their fingers. “I'm interested in Shouyou-kun. In many ways that would seem corrupt to you, Tsuki-kun.”

There was something oddly warm and refreshing hearing Atsumu declare his intentions. His face flushes a deep shade of red, feeling the heat of their hands against each other.

“Atsumu-san—"

“This is absurd.” Now it was Kei’s turn to slam his fist on the table. “Shouyou, what the fuck have you been up to the past couple of weeks?”

Shouyou raises his free hand, signaling Kei to calm down. “N-not a lot but.. Atsumu-san and I have been talking frequently, like I said earlier. He's nice.” Then he beams. “He also plays volleyball! Bokuto-san knows him so I figured that meeting with him wouldn't be sketchy.. considering the way we met.”

The hand signal obviously did not work. Kei was still angry and his eyes were on their hands. Now there’s complete silence in the table.

Ultimately, he sighs. “Shouyo.. no. Do you expect me to leave this place without you?”

His face lit up. An idea occurred to him. “If it makes you feel at ease, I'll keep in contact and we’ll be back before 8:00PM!!

“7:00PM.”

“…7:30?”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Fine, 7:00PM, mom.”

Kei shook his head as he stood up. “This has been unpleasantly eventful. I apologize for my rash behavior, please understand.” The tone was back to sarcastic. It was directed to Atsumu. “But I must be going now. Shouyou. Miya-san.”

As if he’s pouring salt to the injury, Atsumu unclasps his hand from Shouyou’s to drape an arm on his chair. A finger comes in contact on Shouyou's shoulder, brushing it down to his elbow gently, sending the smaller one satisfying shivers from the ghostly touch. “Understood. See ya around, Tsuki-kun.”

Kei narrows his eyes at the sight before taking his leave.

They both watch the blonde leave. Atsumu’s head falls down on the table. “Maaaan, so intense.” his eyes were animatedly closed. “Shouyou-kun, ya have really protective friends, dontcha?”

Shouyou almost stood rapidly from his seat remembering how rude they were being earlier. “I’m so sorry about that Atsumu-san… Kei caught me leaving and I couldn’t stop him from going ‘cus he was hungry and the café was nearby and—”

Atsumu holds on to his wrist in an attempt to calm him down. “Hey, s’all good. Just shows y’er friends care.” Then he pushes the neglected pudding towards him. “Let’s start this over?”

Shouyou’s eyes land on their now intertwined hands.

So much for this meet-up not being a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> atsuhina date in the next chapter. then smut. that's all i gotta say.  
> surprisingly, i had a hard time writing hinata's pov.
> 
> songs used in this chapter: [☾](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jnD6dF0u_s) [☾](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uW1mfr7Y_mc) [☾](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7h_LPiteTPw)  
> link to shouyou's messages: [kenma☀](https://twitter.com/MiyaShouyou/status/1240599362981392384) | [atsumu☀](https://twitter.com/ShouyouMiya/status/1240599310196039680)
> 
> follow me on [twt](http://twitter.com/kiyoomimi) if u like @ kiyoomimi
> 
> drop a comment or kudos if you liked this!  
> constructive criticisms are welcome~


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